Schism
by CrimsonRegret478
Summary: When a deadly strain of plague hits the countries hard, the remaining must do everything they can to stay alive. Assasinations, plague, and total destruction. There will be no prisoners - only trophies. Dark!Hetalia
1. Prologue

**Okay, redone as I said. I feel this one will go much smoother. This is merely a prologue so it isn't lengthy. Chapter One is underway as of the moment. Anyway, hope you enjoy! For those who follow me, _Midnight's Kiss_ will be updated ASAP. Inspiration for that one is a tad bit low...**

**Happy reading!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Warnings: Language, Blood, etc.**

* * *

**Prologue**

The clock ticked in rhythm with her slowing heart. Sweat beaded on her pale skin and a damp cloth was placed on her forehead. She shuddered from the massive chill that ran through her body. The blood seeping from the corners of her mouth was quickly wiped off by another rag before she lurched and hurled her stomach's contents into the garbage bin that reeked of blood and vomit and was stained with it. She whimpered softly, wishing for it to be over, wishing for death.

"Hang in there, Hungary," the brunette man's glasses reflected the concern in lavender eyes. "Be strong—just as you always have been."

Hungary didn't have the strength to respond and continued leaning over the trashcan, the stench burning her nostrils. Her matted and dull hair draped over her shoulders in a messy heap, sticking to her forehead.

Certain that she was through emptying her stomach, Austria brushed back her hair and helped her lay back down. Gently lifting her head, he tipped the glass of iced water so the cool liquid could nourish her body. He had to keep her hydrated, if anything—he didn't want her condition deteriorating faster than what it already was. He had to keep her alive. He couldn't lose her. He could _not _lose her.

She was one of the few people who understood him.

Austria wondered what it was like in her country. Complete and utter chaos? Probably. He couldn't let her be around that destruction and bloodshed—what had she done to deserve that? What she done to deserve _this? _This pain, this sickness… it was killing her. It _would _kill her.

_No, no, stop it, _he scolded himself. _You can't allow yourself to think like that._

Whilst Austria was lost in his own thoughts, Hungary counted the ticks of her mortal clock. How much time did she actually have? Hours? Minutes? …Seconds? She doubted she had long. She could feel the suffering of her people, hear their cries of despair, experienced their fear…

No.

She didn't have long at all.

And… she was oddly content with that.

Why put Austria and her friends through the anguish of seeing her crumble away like this? It wasn't fair, neither to them nor her. As long as Austria was around, she knew someone would be there to keep Prussia out of trouble… and possibly keep him healthy—_alive._

"Austria," Hungary croaked.

"Yes?" said country looked up at his frail companion.

"Would you… play a song for me?" Hungary's voice could barely be heard over the silence. "Please? It would make me very happy."

She attempted a smile, one that required the last spark of radiance she had. Austria stood and nodded sullenly. He didn't dare smile lest it spark false hope.

Trudging over to the piano just outside the room, Austria took his seat, studying the ivory keys. Upon deciding what he was to play, Austria played slowly and carefully, letting each note to hang in the air to sing its own sad song. And within each note Hungary fell, carrying the music with her to the darkness, still wearing a smile.

"Hungary!" a certain country burst into the room, eyes wide and hair disheveled.

Austria continued playing, however, and the tears hitting the keys played the saddest song of all.


	2. Infection

**Chapter One**

**Infection**

He penned the words carefully and cautiously, trying to steady his shaky hand. He wiped the sweat from his brow and held back a cough. How was he supposed to break the news? How could he let the man down easy? He supposed there wasn't a way. He had to hurry and send this off before he fell as well.

Austria scribbled the address on the envelope. The sound of Prussia's dry-heaving made him more nauseous than he already was. He would have to send it off later. Right now, Prussia needed him—and he wasn't going to let the man fall so easily. Entering the room that reeked of vomit and sweat, Austria was met with the sight of Prussia leaning over a trash bin, emptying his stomach's contents—which was nothing.

Austria sighed.

Nothing he was giving Prussia to eat was staying down. The brunette was at his wits end.

He wasn't going to give up.

Prussia wasn't going to die. Hungary was gone. He couldn't bear losing Prussia no matter how much the former nation irritated him. While ignoring his own symptoms, Austria continued to aid Prussia in his recovery, realizing that death already sunk its teeth deep into Prussia's soul.

* * *

Germany stared out into the relatively empty meeting room. One, two, three, four, five… eleven. Eleven countries out of 257. Not good. Not good at all. The remaining eleven fidgeted in their seats, murmuring amongst themselves, no doubt questioning where the other 246 countries were. They bombarded Germany with numerous questions upon arriving since the upcoming World Meeting wasn't scheduled until the next month.

_I never expected this many to be… _he thought sullenly and ended such thoughts. He had to pull himself together. He had called this meeting and he had to be clear minded enough to run it.

America was chatting England's ear off (of course), China was complaining about how immature western countries were, Spain was whispering sweet nothings to Romano who blatantly ignored him, Canada and France were conversing quietly in French, and Russia was… just being Russia.

Japan glanced at his fellow nations silently, his eyes dark and empty.

Italy was unusually quiet, his amber eyes were staring at the table with disinterest and shoulders slumped like barbells were resting on them. The paper in front of him meant for notes was free of doodles which was another unusual sight.

"Dude where is everyone? Are they late? How un-heroic, man," America sighed dramatically in boredom.

"Oh be quiet, you bloody idiot. They'll be here—they _are_ probably just running late," England chastised his former charge. "There's no need to question it. Everyone has their days where they fall behind. There's still some time before we're required to start."

"But how can so many be running late? It's very unlikely, _Angleterre,_ no matter what your reason is," France folded his hands on the table, focusing his calculating ocean eyes on said nation.

England rolled his eyes and refused to make eye contact.

"We never start on time anyway-aru," China said.

"Where could everyone possibly be?" Canada asked.

"No one knows, my friend," France shrugged in his native language and switched back to English. "Perhaps they got caught up in other matters. This was unexpected, after all."

"All right, let's begin," Germany said, smoothing back some strands of loose hair.

"But what about everyone else? As I said, there's still time," England spoke up, with arms crossed and a thick eyebrow rising in question. "Surely we can't be the only ones."

"I'm afraid we are," Germany nodded solemnly. "We all had a week to arrive and this meeting was mandatory… to see who remained."

"Remained from what? What the hell is going on, potato-bastard? We don't have time for mind games—get to the fucking point already!" Romano growled in exasperation.

"Roma, calm down, _por favor," _Spain said softly as his lover cursed rapidly in Italian.

Germany cleared his throat, paying no mind to Romano's outburst, "Those missing will not be coming due to a virus going around. I'm honestly very surprised you haven't heard about it. It's spreading like wildfire."

"They can't all be sick, can they?" France commented.

"That or dead," Germany countered bluntly, effectively silencing the room.

"D-Dead?" Canada choked, clutching onto Kumajiro tighter.

"Ja," Germany's voice was pained.

"How in the bloody hell can a country die because of a 'virus'?" England's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I've never heard of such a thing. _That _is very unlikely, right frog?"

France merely smirked to himself, knowing what the other was referring to.

"They're getting sick and dying—according to Austria who just had to bury Hungary. It can't get any simpler than that," Germany replied, ignoring the small banter. "My brother's next."

"From what we can understand," Japan started, surprising the other nations with his sudden decision to speak, "this virus causing nations to fall attacks them governmentally. Those who are having complications are more susceptible to those who aren't. We've took it upon ourselves to call it the GDC-14, which means Governmentally Dissolving Countries."

"This _virus," _England air quoted the word. "How do we know we've caught it?"

"Frequent headaches, nosebleeds and high fevers are only the start," Germany pulled out a letter written to him from Austria that told him of Hungary's demise and Prussia's current condition. "Austria tried to nurse Hungary back to health and kept record of her symptoms as they appeared. After that, there's vomiting, cold sweats and hot flashes. From then on it's respiratory complications—chronic cough, wheezing, chest pains, and shortness of breath. He said that at one point she coughed so vigorously one of her lungs nearly collapsed."

The entire room grew cold.

Germany placed the note down tenderly, scanning the paragraph where it reported that Prussia was constantly throwing up everything he ate and drank and the white-haired former country was becoming unbelievably thin. The sickness was killing Prussia faster than it had Hungary.

"It's highly contagious," Germany swallowed the thick lump in his throat. "Anyone who has come in contact with the infected has shown signs of having caught the virus days after."

"So what are we supposed to do?" America finally spoke, his voice astonishingly meek.

"Stay alive for as long as possible. Maintain our country for as long as we can and… and…" Germany trailed off, at a loss for words.

"And pray," Italy whispered.

"What's praying going to do, _idiota? _We're all going to die, plain and simple," Romano scoffed. Despite his tough exterior, the country was shaking on the inside. His heart was about ready to jump out of his ribcage.

"We can't afford to think like that," France shook his head. "Being a pessimist won't change things for the better. All it will do is cause more despair and that is the last thing we need."

"The frog's actually right for once. We need to work towards finding a cure—if there _is_ one," England sighed. "Not only that, we have to be certain that our government is running sufficiently and keep it that way for our sake and for the lives of those surrounding us."

Everyone agreed silently.

"This meeting is adjourned. We'll meet again in about a month. I will send you a letter telling you the date and time. And I don't need to tell you to be careful," Germany's eyes were glaciers.

The others shuffled out of the room noiselessly, too stunned to even speak. Italy looked up at his lover, worried and fearful. It shook him to see Germany in such an uncertain state. The blonde was usually so strong and controlled, hardly fazed by anything. But this… this was an entirely different case. This virus was eating at him, enjoying the fact that it would soon claim Prussia along with so many others.

"Germany?" Italy stood, approaching the nation who had his back to him. He placed his hand on the latter's shoulder.

"Italy…" Germany turned and suddenly pulled the smaller nation close, burying his face in the shorter man's hair.

"Y-Yes?" Italy squeaked, unsure of what was going to be said next.

"Don't leave me…" Germany murmured painfully. "Please. I-I can't lose you either. I just—I _can't."_

The taller man began shaking visibly and Italy held onto his love, wanting to remain strong. For once, he was going to be the rock and be someone who Germany could rely on instead of the other way around. Italy hugged Germany tightly, fighting back the tears that were pushing against Italy's resistance to spill.

He had to be strong for Germany.

He was going to make the blonde nation proud.

_I won't let you down Germany, _Italy thought. _I'll be strong for you just like you've been strong for me._

The letter from Austria sat neglected and lonely on the table, displaying its sad message to those who wanted to read it.

_Dear Mr. Germany,_

_ I apologize for not mailing you sooner but you know my reasons. I'm just going to get straight to the point: Hungary is dead. She passed last week. Your brother… he's not doing too well. Everything he eats is thrown back up minutes later. The only thing his body is not rejecting is fluids—that alone will not save him. Without medication of some sort, there is no way to fight off this virus._

_His fever keeps spiking at an unbelievable rate. It goes from 100 to 106 in minutes before coming to rest at 100. He's had five nosebleeds in the past hour and I've lost count as to how many he's had total today. The headaches are forming into migraines so horrible that even the smallest of amount causes him great pain. He has his days where it seems like he's completely normal but those are extremely scarce. I am sorry to say that the future looks grim for your brother. But I am not ready to give up so don't you give up either. I am doing everything I can to save him while trying to keep myself healthy. _

_However, I am failing on my own end._

_What strikes me as odd is that he is losing his ability to communicate effectively. His sentences are choppy even though I know what he is asking of me. This seems to be Broca's Aphasia, or motor aphasia, which is when someone has sustained damage to the frontal lobe of the language-dominant area of the brain. It is strange to me because Hungary did not have this problem. She could still function normally. He continues to understand the questions I ask him which is a good sign altogether._

_I think this virus is evolving. I'll keep you updated, nonetheless._

_He asks for you constantly, your brother. He wonders if you're going to come by and see him on some days and others he wants you to stay away. I think it's the malnourishment talking. I know he wants you to keep your distance. Prussia doesn't want you catching this awful virus. He'd much rather die in your place._

_He told me that older brothers are supposed to protect their younger siblings no matter how much of a pain in the ass they can be sometimes. Those are his words, not mine. He also told me that he loves you and that when he does pass; he wants you to know that the greatest day of his life was when he discovered you as a brand new country. You have made him proud, Mr. Germany. I can see that. And I know that he can die a happy man and rest in peace unlike so many others who have succumbed to this disease._

_I have not received word from my neighboring countries which very well mean they could be dead as well. I have been sending letters to Switzerland concerning his and Lichtenstein's condition. He has not replied to a single one._

_Take caution, Mr. Germany—help keep those you care for healthy. Especially little Italy. I know how much he means to you. Watching your loved ones die is something you don't want to have the opportunity to experience. This will be my second time. I am very glad that you are not here to see your brother, as insensitive as that sounds. You do not need to witness this. So do not let any of your allies fall._

_Give them fair warning as to what is going on in the world. They have every right to know if they have not already been informed._

_This was not meant to disturb you or distress you in any way and I sincerely apologize if it has. I just wanted you to know what your brother thinks of you and how he is doing. Prussia will be sending his own letter as soon as he is well enough to write. What I have told you only scratches the surface._

_I will pray for your happiness and well-being._

_Best regards,_

_Austria_

* * *

"You can't give up on me, Lichtenstein!" Switzerland held the girl's clammy hand gently. "You can't! You have to be strong! I taught you how to be strong!"

The bed ridden girl simply stared at her brother with comprehension in her eyes but no longer being able to speak. She had been this way for two days now. It was _killing _Switzerland to not hear his sister's sweet voice that could melt even the coldest of hearts. It had melted his.

Even though he failed to show it, he had grown to care for the young country. Why hadn't he? She obviously cared for him as much as he did for her and she had no quarrels expressing her sisterly love. What was wrong with him?

Even when she was having horrible, gut-wrenching nightmares, he still didn't dare comfort her for long. What could he possibly be afraid of? Was it the fact that he feared if he became any closer it would only cause him more pain when she left him?

He didn't know. He supposed he never would.

And as the light left her eyes, Switzerland remained quiet and the only sound was Lichtenstein taking her last breath of life and the cries of her people from afar as her country went up in flame.


End file.
